


Just This Once

by narcissisticdelusions



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Anal Sex, Bottom GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), CEO Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF), Desk Sex, M/M, Masturbation, Pining, Porn, Porn With Plot, Secretary GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), Smut, Top Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF), Under-Desk Blow Jobs, Workplace Relationship, Workplace Sex, thigh riding
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-12
Updated: 2021-02-19
Packaged: 2021-03-18 17:27:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,694
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29372319
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/narcissisticdelusions/pseuds/narcissisticdelusions
Summary: What is Clay Wright like in bed?George could only hope for the opportunity to find out.
Relationships: Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF)
Comments: 22
Kudos: 266





	1. Pomegranate & Sage

**Author's Note:**

> I am, for once, not writing angst.

“I can give you the rest of the funding, as long as I get sixty percent ownership.” Clay leaned back in his chair, his offer hanging in the air. 

He looked official and his suit looked like it was worth months of George’s salary. He could only imagine how much it actually cost. He glanced at his wrist. Mr. Wright wore a watch from a brand George had never heard of. He couldn’t help but feel small in the taller man’s presence, even if they were all sitting down. 

His mind wandered as he imagined how he lived his life. Did he own a mansion in the outskirts of the city? He seemed like more of a penthouse kind of guy. Did he own an expensive car that he drove to exclusive events for only the wealthiest people of New York? Did he eat lavish dinners cooked by only the best chefs the world had to offer? 

The more he thought and came up with what he thought was the billionaire’s life, the more out of his reach he seemed. He was so out of his league it was painful.

“Did you get that, Davidson?”

He blinked and realized he had been staring at the man the whole time. Could this get any more embarrassing? 

“Sorry, sir, I was,” he paused trying to think of an excuse, “thinking about a previous project. I didn’t quite catch your last few sentences.”

Clay held up his wrist and looked at his watch. 

“It’s fine, we’ll touch on that again at the next meeting.” Clay stood up and buttoned his suit jacket. George couldn’t help but stare at his hands as he did so. “We’ll end the meeting here gentlemen, see you all tomorrow.”

One by one, the other businessmen shook hands with the young CEO and took their leave. George closed his laptop and gathered his notes, shoving them in a case in no particular order. His face still felt hot. He just wanted to be home and watching Netflix instead of drowning in his embarrassment. 

“Stay behind for a few minutes please, George.” He fucking jinxed it.

“No problem, sir.”

George was a recent hire. Mr. Wright’s previous secretary recently got married and decided to put in her two-week notice. That was three weeks ago. He had only been doing this for seven days and he was already majorly fucking up. 

“I wanted to know how you were settling into the job. You seemed to have some trouble focusing today so I hope you aren’t having any problems.” Clay shuffled between papers as he spoke, almost seeming indifferent despite the slight worry he just expressed.

“Everyone has been very welcoming, sir. I’m sorry about earlier; it won’t happen again.”

“Good to hear.” Clay looked to his left and cleared his throat, “You’re going to be working here for a while so feel free to call me Clay when it’s just the two of us.”

George’s eyes widened slightly, then his mouth formed a small smile. “Sure, Clay.” He felt a bit awkward calling his boss by his first name, but he decided to just get over it and play it cool. “Is that all you needed? If so, I should head home before it starts raining.”

“Of course, that will be all.” George turned to leave the room, “Goodbye, George.”

“Goodbye, sir— Clay.”

George took the elevator down to the lobby of the mostly abandoned building. This meeting had been scheduled pretty late and it seemed like most of the employees had already gone home. It was probably around ten or eleven right now. 

He stepped outside and cold wind met his skin. George immediately reaches for his suit jacket to close the buttons when he realizes he must have left it upstairs. There was nothing between his skin and the cold but a thin dress shirt. He winced and went back inside the building. He wished he had his own car. The metro or even a taxi is more suitable in the city and it’s not like he could afford one but, it sure would be nice to drive home without having to wait for a ride.

George had just hung up the phone after ordering a ride when the elevator beeped a few meters away. He whipped around and saw his boss stepping out. He really wasn’t expecting him to leave the office this early. He usually stayed behind this past week. 

“Bo—sir, I mean— Clay,” he had caught him off guard and now he couldn’t even decide what to call him. 

Clay saved him from further embarrassment, “Hello, again, George. Heading home?”

“Uhm, yeah, yes.” He sounded like an idiot. Suddenly his brain found it a good idea to recall his earlier moment in the meeting room. Could this get any worse? “I called for an uber. Feels a bit too cold to take the subway.”

“Ah, right. You left your jacket upstairs. I would have brought it with me, but I had assumed you had already left.” Clay put his hand in his pocket and pulled out his keys. “My car is in the garage downstairs, but it seems you’ll have to meet your ride outside so,” he took off his jacket, “Please, wear mine before going outside. I would feel awful if you caught a cold because of the late end to the meeting.”

George opened his mouth to politely refuse when he met his eyes. He had stepped closer to hand him the jacket, but George hadn’t realized how close. It probably wasn’t a big deal to his boss, but the proximity of Clay’s face was hard for George to ignore. He could see all his freckles, but he was too distracted by his lips to pay them more than a second of his attention. He was less than an arm’s length away. 

“Ah, no, it’s fine, really.”

He smiled softly, “Please, I insist.”

_God, he was so polite._

“Thank you.”

George took the jacket from Clay’s hand. It was warm. He pulled it over his arms and fixed the placing. 

_The sleeves were too long._

Clay only smiled and walked away with his hand in his pocket and the other holding his briefcase. “Goodnight, George.”

Later that night George sat on his bed in sweats and a T-shirt that was slightly too big for him. He picked up the jacket he had tossed on it earlier.

It smelled like pomegranate and sage. He tossed the jacket over his face without thinking and took a deep breath. If he closed his eyes, it was almost like Clay was here. He could see his green eyes, looking right back at him. George noticed he liked to maintain eye contact. He still wasn’t used to it and he usually pretended to be busy looking down at something on his tablet. It always flustered him, nonetheless.

He pulled down the jacket but still held it close to his face. His eyes moved from his nightstand to the jacket. He really should be putting it down so he could wash it early tomorrow and give it back to his boss. He took another whiff and felt a stirring in his lower abdomen. 

_No way._

There was absolutely no way he was getting turned on from smelling his boss’ jacket. He knew he was attracted to him, but this was ridiculous.

He groaned and looked down at his discomfort. It would probably feel _so good_ to let himself take care of it. 

It would probably feel even better to let Clay take care of it. 

He would gladly let his boss’ hand touch him in the most intimate places he could think of. He imagined Clay’s hand caressing his face and then moving lower, exploring his chest. His other hand would already be on the area he wanted it most. 

George turned on his side, the jacket that was still on his chest fell a bit. He tightened his hold on it as he touched himself and imagined it was Clay doing it instead.

He knows he shouldn’t be thinking about him this way, but it was only this once. How could he stop when it felt so good?

His hand moved faster, and he let out breathy moans. He would love to have his hand tangled in Clay’s golden-brown hair instead. It looked like thin threads of gold when the sunlight hit it just so through the windows at the office. 

He thrusted his hips into the air as he thought about his boss having him in his office. It was so private. It would be just the two of them. Clay would fuck him on his desk, where anyone could walk in. He might have to stick his fingers in George’s mouth to keep him quiet. His moans got louder as he thought about sucking on them and seeing the pleased look on Clay’s face. He would let out deep groans in the voice that George sometimes gets to hear early in the morning.

His eyes rolled back, and his mouth fell into an ‘o.’ His abdomen clenched as he came all over his hand. He had a few seconds of bliss until he remembered what he was holding in his left hand. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck—

He just got off to the thought of his boss. How was he going to face Mr. Wright tomorrow? He probably wouldn’t be able to look him in the face. Maybe he should call in sick. No—that was the reason Clay lent him the jacket in the first place. Besides, he had only worked there for a week. It would look bad for him to call in sick.

He sighed to himself and began to clean up his mess. It seemed like he’ll just have to deal with the embarrassment tomorrow.


	2. Courage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> tensions rise.

George really didn’t want to do this. His boss was intimidating enough, why did he have to go and make himself more awkward around him?

“Good morning, George.” Clay greeted him as he walked in, his voice a bit rough. He wore a blue fitted suit today, with another expensive-looking watch. He was ridiculously good-looking. Just looking at him reminded George of his cologne and what he did as he smelled it last night. 

“Morning, sir.” He wanted this interaction done as quickly as possible. He greeted him while avoiding his face and swiftly stepped outside the office to get to his own desk. He’ll brief him after he sorts through a few papers. 

He sat down reached for a jacket he soon realized he forgot to bring. Could he ever do anything right?

He shuffled through a few documents on his computer and got his tablet with Clay’s morning agenda. After about half an hour of filling out easy paperwork, he got up from his desk and went to tell Mr. Wright his plans for the day.

He knocked hesitantly, still not wanting to face his boss. He really hoped Mr. Wright didn’t know how to read minds.

“Come in.”

He gulped and opened the door. He could do this. He just had to read him the list— and tell him about his jacket.

“You have a meeting with the executive from Simons International at nine and then lunch with the mayor at one. You also have to check in on the marketing department’s recent project and give your approval anytime today.” He said all of this without looking up from the schedule and added, “I’m sorry, sir, I forgot to bring in your jacket today. I’ll bring it in tomorrow if you forgive the tardiness.”

“Thank you and it’s no problem, George.” 

He turned around to leave when he heard Clay’s chair move and footsteps walking towards him. He carefully spun around without looking up, the tablet hanging from his left hand.

“Sir?”

“Are you sure you’re feeling alright, George?”

He took a deep breath and held it as he finally looked up at his face. He immediately felt his cheeks flush as he saw the eyes he imagined looking into last night and the hair he wanted to feel himself holding.

“Yes, sir.”

Clay took a second of silence, bringing his hand up and placing it under his chin like he was thinking deeply about something. 

“Then, why have you been avoiding my gaze since I first saw you this morning? It even seems like your briefing was a bit later than usual.” 

George felt himself swallow. His mouth still felt too dry. 

“I don’t like it when my subordinates can’t even look me in the eyes, George. I keep high standards for my employees and eye contact is a sign of basic respect when speaking to a superior.”

Clay was getting after him. He could feel his disapproval. He had also stepped significantly closer to George; just a little closer and maybe he could smell that cologne from last night again. 

“I’m- I’m sorry, sir. It won’t happen again.” 

His stutter gave him away; he was obviously flustered. He just hoped Clay thought it was from his mistake and not from his massive crush on him. It was a mostly sexual attraction at first, but his confident behavior made it hard not to like everything else about him.

Clay remained quiet. 

“You’re dismissed. I expect to see you at the lunch meeting with the info from the lab’s new missile design. God knows why the mayor cares what the military is up to.”

George nodded, still forcing himself to make eye contact, and left the office.

A few hours later he found himself taking a seat beside his boss at the small restaurant table. They were on a balcony overlooking the city. The view always took George’s breath away. When he turned to look at Clay, he thought he saw a bit of a smile on his face, but he must have imagined it. They were here on business after all, and Mr. Wright was nothing but a professional. 

Soon, a tall man walked through the balcony doors, accompanied by a woman with dyed pink hair. It should have been more eye-catching but it really suited her.

“Good afternoon, Jonathan.” They shook hands, “This is my new secretary, Mr. Davidson.”

“Pleased to meet you, Mr. Schlatt.” George shook the man’s hand and turned to the woman next to him, “Pleased to meet you too, Miss.”

The woman smiled, “Ms. Danvers, at your service gentlemen.” 

“Becca, be a doll and give Mr. Wright his gift.” The mayor said after they were all seated. 

She pulled out a box of, probably expensive, whiskey. 

“Just a small gift, on my behalf. I hope you and I can continue to be good friends, Clay.”

Clay smiled at him; it looked a bit off though. If anyone was capable of making smiling professional, it was Mr. Wright. He thanked him and they all ordered their food. The mayor ordered some drink he had never heard of before, but it was probably alcoholic. 

After they all had their meal, George was instructed to take out some sensitive documents containing information about missiles they were designing for the military. Mr. Wright’s company focused on technological advancements and the people who worked under him were some of the smartest in the country. The mayor looked them over as Ms. Danvers wrote down notes. 

When he seemed satisfied, he stood up and called over a waiter, offering to pay for the meal. “I’ve got it this time. Think of it as gratitude towards your indiscretion, Mr. Wright.”

Clay was silent for a second, then politely smiled at the mayor. “Thank you, Mayor Schlatt. I hope we can do this again another time.”

They went back to the company in the back of a sleek, black car. Mr. Wright had a driver and so, the men were free to discuss business in the spacious back seat. It should’ve been fine, but the atmosphere felt a bit awkward and they had only been in the car for a few minutes. At least the morning had gone pretty smoothly. Besides his fumble, the men had gotten a lot of work done. 

It seemed like George spoke too soon because he suddenly felt himself lurch forward as the car stopped. He probably would have slammed his body into the seat in front of him if it weren’t for the hand on his chest. 

The hand on his chest? He looked to his left to find that Clay’s hand was the one stopping from the impact. His face flushed despite the situation. 

“James? What happened?” Clay brought his arm down and leaned forward on the center console. The car still wasn’t moving, and the driver sat with his arms holding on to the wheel.

“Uhm, I’m sorry sir, it seems like there’s been an accident a few cars ahead and I had to stop to avoid hitting anyone.” 

Before George was able to respond to any of this, he heard the car door open and all of the noise coming from the streets.

“Sir, please, get back inside. I’ll go see if we can go around.” Clay had stepped out of the car.

“Wait—I just want to make sure no one needs any immediate help.” He closed the door, but not before George opened his own door and began to follow him. Clay looked at him questionably. 

“I know CPR. I can help if anyone needs it.”

“Very well, come on.”

Thankfully, no one was seriously injured, and the cops had already been called to sort things out. 

As much as he admired Mr. Wright, he hadn’t expected him to step out of the car to personally make sure no one needed help. He could have easily assured himself that the cops had already been called or have his driver check things out. For someone of his stature, what he did felt _personal,_ in a way. He saw him worry about something other than work, and it was certainly different. The man suddenly seemed a bit more human to George. Not that he was inhuman before, he was just too perfect, he supposed. 

They left the scene and went back to the office to work for the rest of the afternoon, it was becoming a routine. George occasionally brought him coffee, and eventually dinner. Clay said he would work late, and George didn’t mind staying overtime to help in any way he could. Honestly, he felt like it was the least he could do, considering his actions the night before. Guilt was keeping him there that night, not some obligation to go 'above and beyond’ at work.

“George?”

“Sir?”

“Where’s that bottle from the Mayor?” George blinked. Did he want a drink? Right now?

“It’s at my desk, would you like me to get it?”

“Yes, please.” Clay rubbed his brow and shut his eyes.

Was it the detour they had to take today? Did something happen while George was at his desk this afternoon? What had made him upset to the point of needing a drink at work? 

George handed him the box and asked him about it as Clay opened it. He didn’t respond, instead shooting a glass of whiskey down his throat.

“We all need a drink sometimes.” That was all he said, before taking another shot.

“If you say so, sir.” Maybe this is just how rich people did things at work?

“We _all_ need a drink, George.” He smirked, poured another shot, and held it up to George. 

“Me?” Clay nodded and George hastily took a hold of the shot. He tilted his head back and swallowed, making a sour face.

“Can’t handle your alcohol?”

George smiled nervously, “I can, sir.”

He couldn’t. In fact, he was a bit of a lightweight. One shot and he could feel the heat creeping up his neck. He most definitely wasn’t drunk, but he could feel himself begin to relax. Clay kept his eyes on George the entire time. He could feel his gaze when he took the shot.

George took a seat across from Clay’s desk and scrolled through his work on his tablet. He was pretending to work but he couldn’t when he knew his boss was looking right at him. He wanted to get his opinion on something, but he had to reread a sentence three times just to comprehend it.

The room felt warm and he could feel the clink of the shot glass as his boss threw back another one. Surely, he wasn’t planning on drinking more, he was still at work. He would probably drink more once he got home though. George knew it must be more comfortable than drinking here. 

_God, what was he doing? Drinking at work? With his boss? He must be out of his mind._

Clay stood and mumbled something about ‘courage.’ 

“Sorry, sir, what was that?”

He didn’t answer. He walked around his desk until he was at the seat next to George. 

“You’ve got something on your jacket.” Clay didn’t give George time to fix whatever it was. He sat on the chair and reached over to George’s lapel, dusting something off.

He didn’t remove his hand. 

George felt his heart rate skyrocket and he froze in place. He felt hot and bothered. He could no longer tell if it was from the drink or Clay. He wanted to ask him what he was doing but he didn’t want to break whatever trance Clay was in.

The taller man looked back up at him, his hand still on George. It almost seemed like he was leaning in closer. Pomegranates and sage.

George was flustered at the reminder the cologne brought. 

“Are you alright, Clay?”

His words seemed to snap him out of it because he removed his hand and stood again. 

“I think it’s time to call it a day.” George fumbled with his tablet as he nodded and walked to the door. 

“See you tomorrow, George.” He pretended not to hear him in favor of leaving the room as soon as possible. He tried to slow his breathing as he packed his things in his case.

**Author's Note:**

> any and all comments are appreciated :)


End file.
